The Day Of Fire Is Coming, The

A Woman / Who Loves A Woman / Is Forever Young.

Bless All Useful Objects, The Spoons Made Of Bone, The Mattress I Cook My Dreams Upon, The Typewriter That Is My Church With An Altar Of Keys Always Waiting.

The Summer Has Seized You, As When, Last Month In Amalfi, I Saw Lemons As Large As Your Desk-side Globe-that Miniature Map Of The World-and I Could Mention, Too, The Market Stalls Of Mushrooms And Garlic Bugs All Engorged. Or I Even Think Of The Orchard Next Door, Where The Berries Are Done And The Apples Are Beginning To Swell. And Once, With Our First Backyard,i Remember I Planted An Acre Of Yellow Beans We Couldn't Eat.

There Is An Animal Inside Me, Clutching Fast To My Heart, A Huge Crab.

Here In The Hospital, I Say,that Is Not My Body, Not My Body.i Am Not Here For The Doctorsto Read Like A Recipe.